The Ancestors Are Logging In

Augustus and the others were merely stunned by the titles of these Executors. But if Artanis could still remain lucid amid the psychic torrent of Amon's rage flooding the Khala, he would have understood the immense weight those titles carried.

Every name among them had once resounded through the history of the Protoss Empire. Each was one of the most renowned great warriors of the age of expansion and conflict, with peerless accomplishments. They were the very embodiments of loyalty, courage, honor, and every other noble virtue.

Their legends, tales, and stories still echoed among the Templars of this era. Any scholar recounting the history of that age, when heroes had gathered in great numbers, would present an incomplete and biased account if even one of these great figures were omitted.

No matter how one looked at it, this was rather unfair.

At this moment, there were not many Daelaam Protoss under Artanis's command in the Hall of Ascension—fewer than a hundred. Nearly half of them were Shakuras Dark Templars who had not connected to the Khala.

Though there were no shortage of Golden Age warriors among the Templars now suffering under the mad whispers and overwhelming hatred within the Khala—warriors who had slept aboard the Spear of Adun until now—even in that era, these great warriors had remained legends passed down by word of mouth.

When these great Executors had commanded the armies of the Protoss Empire, some of the present warriors had not even been born.

While Augustus deployed his forces over the command channel, Purifier Executor Korolariang had already led several dozen legion soldiers bearing the artificial personalities of ancient heroes into the enemy ranks. Almost no one could stop them.

These were not artificial intelligence machines fighting according to combat protocols, but ancient heroes whose exceptional